It was almost 2 weeks ago now, although it feels more like 2 months. That’s probably on account of all the interrogations and accusations that have been thrown in my direction, but whatever, it’s all over with now.
My friend Mack had invited me to go on an unorthodox spring break trip to Glacier National Park. I spent my first 3 college spring breaks funneling beer like an idiot at the beach, so I figured why not do something different. What’s the worst that could happen?
The first few days went according to plan, hiking, camping, grilling out, it was really a nice a change of pace from the frat house. However, things started to get a little strange about halfway through the week.
We had decided to hike down the Hidden Lake Trail to the Hidden Lake, no surprise there. It was late March so that meant lots of rain and snow. Honestly if I knew how wet and cold it was going to be I probably would have stayed home. Mack on the other hand was the kind of guy who sought out discomfort. We bonded over drinking beer and playing golf but when we weren’t doing that, he was training. I’m talking 2 a days in the gym, ice baths, saunas, who knows what else. I went with him to the gym a few times and like everything with Mack it was balls to the wall. The dude was intense.
Anyways we were making our way down the trail when the snow really started to come down. Naturally we weren’t paying attention to our surroundings and were talking and joking as we walked. Before we knew it, we had meandered off the trail and lost it completely. We thought it would be no problem to find our way back and really didn’t take it seriously, that was a mistake.
The snowstorm kept getting worse, and it wasn’t long before I could barely see my hand in front of my face. We were two strong young guys with a slight whiskey buzz, so of course we didn’t do the smart thing and look for shelter to wait out the storm. Instead, we kept pushing, almost making a joke out of the absurdity of the situation.
6 hours later it wasn’t so funny. We had no idea where we were, and the sun was starting to set. We happened to stumble upon a huge cedar tree, so we decided to huddle up at the base and shield ourselves from the wind. Luckily Mack was the outdoorsy type and he had equipped both of us with enough winter gear to make it through the night, but it was not fun. The wind was howling, and I was shivering too much to get any sleep. It was hard to tell but I swear I heard a lot of branches breaking and falling to the ground all around us, I just prayed that we wouldn’t be in the line of fire.
Eventually the wind laid, I’d guess probably around 5 in the morning, and the snow stopped completely. Everything was deathly silent for a while. I don’t know if it was just the realization of the danger, we were in, but a feeling of weight and oppression fell on us. We weren’t even talking anymore; it was like a dementor had stolen all the joy out of us.
Thankfully, the mood seemed to improve as the sun rose. We gathered ourselves and decided we would head East, that was our best guess as to where the trail was.
If you’re asking yourself why we didn’t use our phones to call for help or use the GPS or something, that’s a good question. I don’t know if there’s service out there or not but even if there was it wouldn’t have done us any good, we intentionally left our phones back in my truck. The whole idea of us coming out here was to get off the grid and get back to nature, something about bringing a link to the outside world seemed to violate that, so we foolishly went out there with no electronic devices, and no means of calling for help.
Before we got to walking East, I went to the other side of the tree to take a leak. I was standing there taking care of business when I noticed that something off. It took a few moments for my sleep deprived head to process what I was seeing but once I did my stomach sank to my toes.
There was a large indention in the snow about 8’ in diameter, something big had bedded down on the other side of the tree the night before. I called Mack over to take a look.
“Holy hell”, he said, “Dude, check this out, you ever seen any tracks like that?”
He pointed to a set of tracks leading to the large, indented area.
“Nope… can’t say that I have” I said.
The tracks were so bizarre that I almost wanted to believe they were fake. They were about 2’ long and 8” wide. There was a vague human foot shape to them, but they were stretched out to a grotesque length, and the toes were unnatural to say the least. They more resembled long jagged thorns than the regular oversized toes you’d expect to find on a big foot track.
I told Mack that we had to get out of there asap but, unfortunately, he had a head harder than a goat.
“Let me just see where the tracks lead too, it won’t take long, then we’ll head back. Maybe we’ll find it’s den” he said with a wry smile. I told you, he was kind of insane.
I tried to protest but it didn’t do any good.
Whatever it was must have approached the tree right before daybreak because the snow hadn’t had a chance to cover its footprints. We followed the tracks for half an hour before they disappeared. And I don’t mean like gradually disappeared under built up snow, I mean abruptly, like this thing had fallen from the sky.
Mack finally conceded that there was nothing left to do but head back, so we did.
We scarfed down some protein bars and sipped on the bottle of whiskey to keep us warm. Things seemed to be returning to normal as the conversation fell back into girls and sports, and Mack’s fitness tips. I was just glad to put those disturbing tracks out of my head for a while.
Late that afternoon we stopped for a break, neither one of us was going to admit it but the exhaustion was catching up to us. We sat on a pile of rocks, and each chugged a bottle of water.
“Do you think we’ll find our way back today?” I asked
“I think so. I know that if we keep heading East, we’ll either hit the trail or the visitor center. If we walk all the way to the river, then we’ll know we’ve gone too far and we’ll have to double back,” said Mack.
“I’d rather not get caught out here with God knows what for another night,” I said.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said as he pulled out his Glock 19 and trained his eye down the barrel, “there’s nothing more dangerous out here than me.”
I didn’t argue with him. I never thought I’d say this, but I was happy to have a half-crazed pistol wielding fitness maniac at my side.
After a while, we noticed that the clouds began to grow dark in the distance, so we picked ourselves up and kept moving. Unfortunately, we were aimed for a head on collision with them.
As the afternoon turned to evening the blue sky overhead turned gray, and the wind threatened to start whipping us once again.
“Do you hear that?”, I said.
“Yea… running water,” answered Mack.
We both knew what that meant, we had overshot the trail and would have to double back. Right on que the snow started to pick up again.
“I hate to say it man, but we should find a place to hunker down for the night, we can set up the tent and try to get out of the elements. We’ll find our way out tomorrow,” he said.
“I know it, I really don’t want to be out here anymore but it’s the smart thing to do,” I said.
We found a natural rock outcropping, next to the river, that would shield us from the wind, and set up camp. It was a much better situation than the night before and we were actually able to get some sleep.
Here’s where the story gets delusional according to the police/park rangers.
I’d guess that once again around 5 AM, that the snow stopped, and the wind calmed down. Mack accidentally woke me up as he was unzipping the tent.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Taking a piss, unless you want me to pee in here?” he said.
“Carry on by all means,” I motioned to the tent door.
After a few seconds Mack called me outside.
“Dude you’ve got to come out here something’s going on.” He sounded more alarmed than I’d ever heard.
Outside we could see pretty well. The clouds had receded, and the moon and stars were brighter than I ever remember seeing.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Do you hear anything?” said Mack as he nodded towards the river.
I looked around and suddenly realized what he was getting at. The river was completely silent. And not only was it not making a sound, but it also wasn’t moving. The water wasn’t literally frozen, it had all the shapes and shimmers of a live river but stood still, as if time had stopped.
“Do you feel that?” Said Mack, “there’s something strange in the air.”
I did feel it. Something that felt like heavy electricity draped all over us. There was a very faint white noise that accompanied it, but I don’t think I was audibly hearing it, I think it was in my head. Also, that same feeling of depression and despair weighed on me. I’ve dealt with depression and negative emotion before, and this wasn’t anything like that. It was like I was being targeted by a weapon, not battling my own mind.
A loud thud hit the ground about 100 yards away. We didn’t just hear it, we felt the vibrations, it had some major weight to it.
“It’s back!” whispered Mack as he pulled his pistol out and cocked it.
“What do we do?” I asked.
“When you think the enemy is flanking you, you flank the enemy.” Said Mack with his trademark half-crazed smile, and he hopped over our rock barrier and sprinted away, arching towards the thud in a sweeping motion from the left side.
I hesitated for a minute, and I think I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. I tried to follow him, but he was faster than me.
3-gun shots rang through the air and then silence. I kept running, I put my fears to the side and pushed myself as fast as I could. I didn’t know what I would do when I got there, I just knew that I was scared for my friend’s life.
I came to a stop about where I’d guessed the gun shots came from, there was nothing there but a small patch of blood-stained snow.
A new feeling of despair came over me and this one hasn’t left me yet. My friend was gone. He was taken by some creature that crawled out of myth and legend, and there was nothing I could do.
The river resumed running as if someone had pressed play on a movie and the heavy electrical feeling lifted off me.
I stumbled around looking for Mack for at least 12 hours before the park rangers found me. I told them what happened and that’s when the questioning started. I told them where they could find the blood, maybe there was some there from the creature, but I don’t know if anything came of it.
I got the impression from the Ranger that seemed to be in charge that this wasn’t the first time this sort of thing had happened. After countless hours of interrogation, I was escorted back to my truck and on the way out of the building several men in black suits were on there their way in.
That’s all I know, and I fear that’s all I’ll ever know.
Still, somewhere deep inside I can’t help but have a stupid hope that Mack will show up back in town, battered and bruised, with a wild grin, and a hell of a story to tell. If anybody could make it back it would be him.